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BRINGING HOME THE STRAYS
1. The New Lover
i have found a new lover, i have picked up another stray,' my friends do not say, 'he's really nice,' they say, 'you've done it again,' & when he opens his big brown eyes to them & lands on their womanly arms like a sick pigeon, well even they want to feed him their last crumbs, as we are all down to our last crumbs, in our empty fridges, in our tiny kitchens, but still we feed him, the one with the biggest eyes, the one with the sad shabby clothes & most gorgeous missing teeth, he's had a hard life & i am very fussy when it comes to men, i will usually pick the ugliest, neediest, unhealthy derelict in the room, an inhabitor of a st. kilda boarding house, like when i got adrian & brought him home with his garbage bags trailing behind him, the soles out of his shoes, socks & self, he was so sick, his feet were too frail to touch the carpet, so he screwed up his cotton t-shirts & planted them like soft stones from his bedroom to the bathroom, he jumped from cotton mound to cotton mound on his big ungainly feet, his filthy twisted toenails as thick as plastic, he let out a weak howl when even the dye from the t-shirts took his energy away, zapped it from his fragile life, he spent most of his day squirting a dozen different flower essences into his mouth, burning essential oils, or holding crystals, at night he would holistically pulse & drink a bottle of rescue remedy, place onyx on the roof to combat electromagnetic radiation, his biggest enemy, so i bring him home, with the intention to heal the world, that peeps out from a hole in his broken shoe, i am a rescuer of injured wildlife, preferably dark featured, over six foot two |
